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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26665549">Mae’s Journal</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jluliacorn/pseuds/jluliacorn'>jluliacorn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Night In The Woods (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, College, Diary/Journal, Gen, Post-Canon, Therapy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:02:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,199</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26665549</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jluliacorn/pseuds/jluliacorn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mae goes back to college and starts writing weekly diary entries. She gets a new therapist and a roommate, but she’s still Mae Borowski and bound to get herself into trouble.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The End of Summer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">August 31st</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I’ve finished moving into my dorm at Tamarack College. Classes start in a few days. Mom begged me to go back to my old school, but I’d rather die. Tamarack accepted my freshman credits anyway, so I don’t have to repeat that stupid essay-writing class. This semester, I have intro to psych, a math class, intro to creative writing, and intro to photography. Basically just College for Dummies. Bea convinced me to get a roommate even though I don’t like the idea of someone else seeing how I live. I got assigned one randomly, and their name is Bonnie Gallagher. We haven’t talked a whole lot yet, but they told me they’re an art major. Mom set me up with a new therapist in the area, and my first appointment is next week. If he’s anything like Dr. Hank, I’m leaving right away.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">September 7th</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oh god. I never want to do another icebreaker in my life. Which interesting fact about me do you want to hear? “My friend from home was kidnapped and murdered by a cult of angry dads” or “I turn 21 next month and I still don’t have a driver’s license”? I wanted to tell Anthony (my new therapist) all of this, but today was an “intake session” and I had to sit there and fill out a bunch of boring forms. Besides that, things seem alright here. In my photography class, I met a dog named Desiree Ausland, who said she visits Possum Springs to see her grandma. Her dad had the right idea, leaving the place before starting a family. Gregg messaged me about his upcoming move to Bright Harbor yesterday. He and Angus already chose a place and are moving this month. I wonder how Bea is taking this. Maybe someday she’ll be the only resident of Possum Springs. I’d have to give up my title of mayor.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A little secret: I named her new college by opening to a random page of a tree-identification guide.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Normal Autumn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I swear things are going to pick up eventually! Right now Mae is just settling in.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">September 14th</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Mom called and asked how I’m adjusting. I told her I’m fine, just tired. I forced myself to go to a student-run barbecue on Monday. I hadn’t considered how hard it is to approach people when everyone is eating and most of them came with their friends. I just left and started exploring the campus. I climbed one of the trees and sat there for a while. It was nice being high up without Aunt Mall Cop glaring at me, but it didn’t win me any friends, besides maybe some ants. Earlier today, I had an appointment with Anthony and I didn’t even know where to start. He seems like a nice enough guy, but somehow I couldn’t tell him what I wanted to say last week. I just told him I felt lost, being in a new place where I didn’t know anybody. He asked what I’m majoring in, and I said I didn’t know. He suggested going to social events, and I told him about the barbecue. He then asked how I made friends at home, and I said we were stuck in the same small-town school together. He suggested talking to my roommate, which I didn’t have an excuse for. Bonnie and I say hey to each other and not much else. Anthony asked me about my classes, and I told him that I like creative writing so far. The instructor assigns us to write down three observations twice a week, share them in class, and write a one-page story using an observation borrowed from a classmate. I told them about the initials I saw carved into the tree I climbed (doomed to be part of someone’s shitty love story). It’s probably only a matter of time before my observations turn weird. Does Tamarack have any secret pentagrams? Arms on the street? Rats living inside a parade float? There’s gotta be something besides all these liberal arts hippies.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Feels Familiar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>September 21st<br/>Well. That happened. What started as me talking with Bonnie about our hometowns and cringey high school stories ended up turning into them inviting me to a party where I had too many drinks. I don’t remember much of it, but they said I kept slurring my words and calling them “Bonbon” during the ride back to our dorm. I got really embarrassed but Bonnie just laughed it off. Apparently I didn’t yell at anyone this time, so crown me the queen of willpower. My trash mammal days are OVER. I told everyone at home how social I’ve been (without the beer details) so I probably have them thinking I’ve got this college thing in the bag. I bet they don’t even know I haven’t started looking for a job yet. Gregg told me that he and Angus move into their new place tomorrow, so Bea’s taking the day off work to help them move. It feels like it all happened so fast, even though it was supposed to happen back in the spring. It was rough when Angus had family issues again, but at least we got that road trip in before I had to move out. I’ve been trying to keep myself busy with my homework, but I keep wondering when we’ll get to do crimes again. Does Bright Harbor have an actual police department? Like, a real one? God, I hope not.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Another Week</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I’m so busy and exhausted with life haha;; I might edit this chapter later.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">September 28th</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Uggghhh. I have to read and summarize a bunch of articles for psych. Longitudinal Study of Depressed Adults, Effectiveness of Blah Blah Blah-based Treatment. Because I’m a productive adult, I put it off to start looking for a job. Not to play Demontower. That’s right. I applied to the campus bookstore. I had only been there maybe twice before, but they don’t need to know that. About half of the questions were about how my “last job” was, so I spent about 5 minutes just checking the “this would be my first job” box for each of them. The only other positions I found online were in the dining hall or learning centers. Something tells me that they’re not looking for taco-testers or shoplifting tutors, so... no thanks.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hi I’m not dead and yes I do plan to finish this. enjoy</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">October 5th</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">My birthday was yesterday. Twenty-one years, huh. I hung out with Bonnie for a bit and showed them the tree I had climbed a few weeks ago. I got some happy birthday texts from home, plus a call from Dad. He said that he’s proud of me for going back, but misses watching Garbo and Malloy with me. Bonnie offered to take me to another party, but this time I said no. I admitted how I acted at that last one, and Anthony started asking me a bunch of questions that I didn’t wanna deal with during my session. I feel like it’s inevitable that the people here are going to find out about how fucked up I am. Even if I delay it by skipping parties, something is bound to happen eventually. They still call me Killer at home after all these years. The good news is that I survived my interview at the bookstore. They’re actually understaffed??? I guess all the other Tamarack students would rather work at one of those vegan acai bowl places or overpriced cafés. I swear, there are like, 30 of those around here.</span>
</p>
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